


His Warmth

by LORBEERPRINZ



Category: Star Driver: Kagayaki no Takuto
Genre: Bastard Boyfriend Head, M/M, POV First Person, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-06-11
Packaged: 2018-04-03 22:53:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4117695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LORBEERPRINZ/pseuds/LORBEERPRINZ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the end of Zero Time and the destruction of Samekh, Head returns from the battlefield to his house, ready to leave the island as quickly as possible. However, he gets distracted by a person of whom he had almost forgotten he might still be there. [Tokio (Head) x Shingo]</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Warmth

**Author's Note:**

> More works for a ship nobody ships, hooray! This is sort of a continuation or companion piece to "All I Have", so you would be best adviced to read that one first. You don't /have/ to, I suppose this fic is comprehensible even without it, but I made a few references back to the other one, so...  
> I wished this ship wouldn't put me through so much pain, but trying to stay in canon, there's hardly anything happy you can do with them, I suppose. Oh the hardships of shipping something where one half of the pairing is a egomanic asshole...

This was the worst night ever, it should have never run like that.  
I couldn’t believe it had all happened this way.

Even about an hour or more after the collapse of Zero Time and the destruction of Samekh, I was still rather unable to comprehend what had exactly gone wrong, why my plans and dreams had been smashed so easily and thoroughly. It had taken me years to reach the place where I had wanted to be; I had been so close, had almost literally been able to hold it all in my hands. But then, in the span of a single moment, the dream had collapsed.  
Nothing of this felt real.

I can’t even really remember how I had managed to get back to my house. The last thing I recall is a short moment during which I sat on the shore, trying to comprehend what had gone wrong, while Ryousuke was holding a long speech about how and where I had failed. After that he had left and all I could see was a sky full of stars.  
But some of these, under which I must have walked back to my house, were not stars. They were the remains of the big king that had risen to take his rightful place and the knight that had been his downfall.

 

However I had come back to my house, I was there again, taking a deep breath of hallway air. Not that it helped anything. I didn’t even bother to turn on the lights as I made my way into my bedroom for a change of clothes.  
My body was heavy, every bone hurt. I was tired, not only from the fight as such, but more from the resulting failure. My head spun and I could hardly think of anything. The only thing I thought was that I needed to get out of these clothes – the times of Kiraboshi were surely over and I didn’t need this outfit anymore.  
With a new shirt and pants, I stared around the room for a moment. I had to get away, I could impossibly stay on this island any longer. It was the middle of the night, but still, I should, no, _had_ to get going. Somewhere. I didn’t even care where.

 

This was the end.

And that was the only thing Takuto had ever been right about. His voice kept echoing in my head and I cursed him, cursed me, cursed everyone. This should have never been running like this. If this brat had never come here, everything would be fine by now.  
But at least there was one thing I had always wanted to see that had come true: the destruction of Tauburn. I could hardly care less how he and Sugata would ever get back from wherever they exactly were right now, but it was sure that both of their Cybodies were no more.  
Unfortunately, this didn’t help me a single bit, my days on this island were over no matter what.

But I needed to collect a few things first, so went down the steps to my living room. Maybe it was finally time to take this painting there and throw it away, or burn it or whatever. She was gone, and now it was official that I could never get her back.  
While coming down the staircase, I could see the dark shadow of a figure through the water tank. As I arrived, I realized this was Shingo, who had been apparently looking at himself and then stared at me with big eyes.

  

I had almost forgotten Shingo might still be here. I had almost forgotten what his eyes looked like.  
I didn’t want him to be here. I didn’t want to be here.  
Nothing about this scene was right. 

Making out his figure in the darkness was hard, but I could still see that the clothes he was wearing, a light shirt that fell loosely over his thin, ghostly body and a pair of similarly light pants, were all mine. Of course they were. He didn’t have anything on his own anymore.  
Maybe his old belongings were still stored somewhere, maybe even in this house of mine, but I couldn’t quite remember. Not that it mattered, anyway.  
Shingo kept staring at me until he finally took at step towards me, whispering my name. When he was close enough, he lifted a hand to touch my face and the starlight was reflected as much in his eyes as apparent concern was. I didn’t even know why he was frowning, until he spoke up.

 

“Tokio… what happened to your face…? Are you alright?”  
Only then I realized that there must have been a visible scratch or wound left from the fight with Takuto. The remains of my mask must have cut my cheek or something as he had broken it. It wasn’t even hurting at all, but that was probably because my whole head hurt to begin with. There was an incredible pressure everywhere around.

I didn’t feel like answering him, what had happened was none of his business.  
Why was he even still here? He could already walk around again, so why had he not left?  
He shouldn’t be here anymore.

It seemed he didn’t care I gave him no answer, as he put his arms around me in a tight embrace. He was surprisingly warm.  
I tried to recall if we had ever hugged like that, but my throbbing head made it almost impossible to concentrate on anything. Maybe we had, but what did it matter now. It hadn’t mattered to me back then and it still did not.  
“I saw Samekh going up into the sky… it was scary. But you managed to come back, thank goodness. I’m so glad…”  
His warmth was nice for the moment, it seemed to help easing the pain in my muscles and bones and everywhere. As I rose my arms a bit, I realized what long hair he had. It was kind of logical after all these years, but I had never noticed that before, despite the time he had spent in my house lately as I had slept more or less next to him in this very room.  
He smelt nice, had probably taken a shower not too long ago. In my bathroom, of course. He had always smelt nice, I remembered, had always felt warm and smooth, not like a man normally would.  
He was more akin to a beautiful girl, even now. 

But he was none. And even if he was, he wouldn’t be able to compare to her.  
The only thing I had needed and wanted him for was this mark, which in the end had not helped at all.  
All the work I had put into this, all the time I had spent with him, had been for nothing. I wondered if it was his fault or not and couldn’t quite tell. Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn’t.  
Maybe it didn’t even matter anymore.  
His mark was just as useless now as anyone else’s. His Cybody was gone, every Cybody was gone, and my dream, my raison d’être, had ceased to exist just like that.

 

There was nothing to be glad about, Shingo. You don’t know what it feels like to see one’s life dream shattering into pieces in seconds.

 

We parted and he kept looking into my eyes, while I tried to avoid his gaze. I had no need to look at him anymore, no matter how pretty he was. He was useless.  
There was just one thing left he could do for me, and I decided to make him do this.  
I unbuttoned his, no, _my_ shirt a little and he blushed and slightly shivered under my touch. Whatever exactly he was expecting now, it was not going to happen.  
As soon as I had found the right spot, I was ready to transfer his mark back to him. 

Shingo had apparently caught on and suddenly gripped onto my wrist, shaking his head.  
“Tokio, wait a second…”  
I didn’t. I didn’t want to wait, I didn’t care to wait. This mark had lost its purpose for me and I didn’t want to carry it around anymore. I knew he was afraid of it, hated it with all his might, but so did I by now and couldn’t care less about it. It was a true mark, so it would keep its First Phase active, but even that did not matter to me at all.

“Tokio, please…”  
The room lit up in bright red for a moment and I could feel the heat the mark emitted. It was different from Shingo’s warmth. What I could also feel was how he was shaking under my touch, his hands slightly lost their grip on mine.  
When I looked into his face, he was near crying.

“Why…?”

 

He didn’t need an actual answer, I found. Rather, he should be happy to have it back, to be able to make use of the only function it had left now. As long as he kept his mark, he would be this pretty for the rest of his life. Maybe his unchanging body could even make him immortal, who knew.  
He now had a powerful First Phase without the burden of a Cybody to maintain and fight with. I knew he had no clue about battling and hated violence, so there was no reason for him to be sad about all this.  
He should be happy. 

But he wasn’t, and I couldn’t quite understand why.  
Maybe there was a different reason for his unhappiness; I vaguely remembered he had told me about something back then, fifteen years earlier, but I was unable to fully recall what it had been. Thinking about it, I hardly remembered anything that had happened between us during these days. I had probably been too focused on his mark to really notice what he had done or said.  
I just had never mattered to me.

 

Shingo took a few steps backwards, away from me, his hands frantically moved about his chest as if they were trying to find a way of ripping out the mark from his body again. I saw tears falling.  
He had always appeared a little childlike to me, not only because of his big eyes and smooth skin, but also in his mannerisms, his whole self. It might have been his First Phase, but it might just be him.  
He opened his mouth and seemed as if he wanted to say something, eyes still teary. They reflected the starlight better than ever like this.  
I supposed the question he would have posed was the same as before and he still didn’t need an answer. He should know the answer.  
It was high time for me to leave.

 

Instead of saying anything, however, he swung forward again, towards me, and pressed his lips on mine. This took me by enough surprise to almost stumble backwards, but I managed to catch us both.  
I had almost forgotten how soft his lips were.  
He buried his face into my shoulder after the kiss, although without the tight hug he had used before. I couldn’t quite tell if he was still crying.  
“It’s not fair”, he whispered, whatever he meant by that.  
I couldn’t deny that he was right, though. Life was anything but fair right now. 

I sighed a little and let him be like this for a moment. My headache seemed to be getting better with every minute and I couldn’t help but wonder if it might have to do with having gotten rid of Shingo’s mark.  
Or maybe it was just a coincidence.

 

A few minutes passed until he looked up again, tears dried and finally calmed down a little.  
The smell of my shampoo in his hair was strong.  
He looked miserable.

 

“I’m sorry, Tokio, I…”  
I shook my head, whatever he wanted to say right now hardly mattered. He was probably not thinking straight anyway, overwhelmed by emotions like a little boy. And I still wasn’t sure whether he should be sorry in the first place, if anything had been his fault or not.  
Although in the end, this hardly mattered either.  
He had just done what I had asked him to do, had fulfilled a promise of which he had thought it would bring us both closer to our desired places in life. And now that his mark was back in his body, his dream was over as much as mine.  
He didn’t need to be sorry as long as he would share this pain. 

Somehow, this thought and his presence, his smell, his voice, it was all very calming.  
The headache was gone, the overall fatigue not as noticeable anymore.  
The starlight in his watery eyes was almost more beautiful than the real nightly sky.  
Maybe I should have painted him back then. But his sleep had come faster.

 

This time, it was me who initiated a kiss.  
I wanted to feel his lips, hoped they would take the rest of my aches away as well.  
As we stumbled around the room in a stupid dance locked together, my eyes fell onto the painting I had come for here and I had wanted to destroy. If it was her right now, here in my arms, there would be no need to get rid of it. But instead, it was him who had remained, it was him who had returned after endless years of mental absence.  
Why did it have to be him, not her? 

I directed him somewhere else, still kissing fiercely, until we ended up on the bed he had spent the last fifteen years in. I had never intended the rest of the night to go this way, but maybe it would help ease the pain. And even if it didn’t, it would at least feel good enough to forget it for a while. I would never deny that sleeping with him had felt good.

He ended up below me, blushing cheeks, hair falling around his face like a long, dark veil. There was just enough light to see about half of it, while the rest was swallowed by the shadows of the night.  
In this setup, he looked like a woman more than ever, but with every layer of clothes I removed from his body, his maleness became more obvious.  
Shingo hardly moved as I worked my way around his body, stripped him off the things that were actually mine. He blushed heavily and was quite excited, moaning under my touch.  
Every time I put my hands on him, electric currents seemed to run from his body into mine; all the libido he had been unable to use in the past years was now overflowing in a process way beyond his control.

 

“Tokio… Tokio, I love you...  
I love you so much…”

 

Why?  
Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why.  
Why did it have to be him? Why was he the one uttering those words, the ones I would have rather wanted to hear from _her_? Or them. Either of the two would have been fine, but now it was him.  
Life really wasn’t fair at all.

 

I didn’t answer him, there was nothing for me to say.  
I closed my eyes and tried to convert his voice into Sora’s in my mind. There was no other way for me to get through this now. And maybe, I hoped, if I opened my eyes again this would all turn out to be a long, bad dream and I would be able to see and feel her again.  
But of course, this did not happen. 

Shingo was still here. He was still the one who had his arms around me now, whispering my name over and over again.  
He really didn’t need an answer. In fact, it should be clear to him what I thought about his confession; he knew about Sora and all, I was sure he did. He had never stood a chance.  
I didn’t want to listen to him anymore. I couldn’t listen to him anymore.  
I supposed his overflow of libido would make any kind of preparation or other helping methods obsolete and took him without any further words. Even if these calculations had been wrong, I couldn’t care less at that moment.  
I kept on using him until his voice and everything around turned into one noisy drown in my head.

 

* * *

 

When I woke up again from the warm kiss of the sunlight, it was past noon. I had wanted to be away from this island by long already.  
The faint smell of coffee danced through the room. 

My body didn’t hurt anymore when I got up from the lone bed, but it was weary. Slow and numb like my mind, my whole self. The last night had not helped at all.  
Instead, it had brought back memories of times prior, of all the things that had made me draw out my little adventure with Shingo longer than it had technically been necessary – and which had resulted in me having to wait fifteen painful years until I would get what I had wanted, only for it to end up being useless. Memories I had buried for so many years to prevent myself from getting involved with him too heavily, since I had obviously been unable to just let him go if it had happened. I had already been too dangerously close to this back then, at the start of everything, and who knows what I would have gotten into if Sora had not been there.  
But now she was gone and only he prevailed.

 

I hardly remembered anything from the previous night, not what he had looked or sounded like or anything, just a big blur and a feeling of release that in the end had been no release at all.  
The dream had turned into a nightmare that just wouldn’t stop.

 

But on the other hand, it had at least been warm.  
He had been warm, this was something I managed to remember. He had always been warm and soft.

There was also his confession I could vaguely recall, but that didn’t change anything.  
I had to stop myself from getting even deeper into this and I couldn’t take him with me anyway. Not to mention that he was not the one who was supposed to be by my side. Those that were are gone forever.

 

When I finally managed to roll myself out of Shingo’s hospital bed, I found him just a few meters away in yesterday’s shirt and some underpants. The smell of coffee came from him and he sipped a bit of it from a big mug I hadn’t used in years, staring down onto the island scenery through the panorama windows.  
Once again, he was wearing my clothes, had used my shower and the kitchen I hadn’t entered in ages. I had no idea where he actually got the coffee from, but maybe Ryousuke had brought it around at some point. I really had no idea.  
From a certain angle the long waves of brown hair completely veiled his figure, made him once again appear more like a young girl than the man he was supposed to be. The reflection of his face in the window painted the picture of a porcelain doll with his pale, tender outlines, or maybe a ghost. Maybe he wasn’t even here in the first place. 

I should finally get through with it and throw him out.

 

Shingo turned around as soon as he realized I was approaching him, wearing a warm smile.  
“Good morning, Tokio! Do you feel better…?”  
I shrugged. I really didn’t know if I was feeling better than before and I didn’t know what this answer would give him. I should finally pack up and leave.  
He turned back to the view in front of him, still wearing the same smile he had shown me last evening before he had given me his useless mark. The same smile he would wear whenever he had been seeing me back in the days of our regular meetings. Sometimes it had vanished quickly, depending on the topic, but I would be able to make it return eventually.  
I wondered why I remembered such trivial things. I wanted to hate his carefree smile, but I couldn’t, for some reason.

 

He sighed, but not the sad kind of sigh I had been hearing from him so often. He seemed satisfied, happy, despite the events of last night.  
Why was he happy now when he had been crying so much then? Nothing had changed.

 

“You know… I always looked up to you through these windows from the other side. I always wanted to see the view from this side too. And I was right, it’s absolutely beautiful.”

 

I had nothing to say about this. Back then, I had never intended to bring him into my house, although in hindsight, I maybe should have done it at least to paint him once. It might have been nice.  
But that had never happened and in the end, it would have never changed a thing. I would just own one more painting to throw away now.  
Shingo held out his coffee mug to me.  
“Want it? I can also make you a new one if you like.”  
I took it silently and revered in the relaxing smell of it for a moment. Drinking a bit, I realized he apparently liked his coffee much sweeter than what I was used to. It almost didn’t even taste like coffee, more like a children’s beverage. He would never grow up, it seemed.  
Of course he never completely would. I made sure he wouldn’t.

 

I watched over the island for a moment, just as he did in silent bliss. In contrast to him, I wasn’t happy about this scenery, the vast ocean reminded me of the fact that I had originally planned to have crossed it for long by now, even though I didn’t really know what I wanted to do on the mainland in the first place. But I finally had to get away from here.  
I handed the coffee back to him and left towards the bathroom.  
Shingo said something, maybe asking where I went or if I wanted breakfast or whatever, but I didn’t listen. The longer I spent time here with him the worse everything would just get.  
It all had to finally end. 

The quick shower did nothing to improve my mood or the feeling of weariness. A long bath would be better, but I couldn’t and didn’t want to spend time on that now. I dressed, packed a few things together – canvas and paint, for somehow I couldn’t let the art be after all, some leftover money, a bunch of clothes – and got ready to leave.  
The reason why I had wanted to get away during the night or early morning was because otherwise I would surely get in a handful of unpleasant encounters everywhere around the island. It would be no surprise if these children were all looking out for me. Good thing nobody of them knew where I lived.  
And even if they wouldn’t come for me I couldn’t stand the sunlight right now, the bright scenery of the island that had promised me so much and had failed so miserably.  
The worst thing was that all in all, it was still a nice place.

 

When I put on my shoes in the hallway, Shingo appeared again.  
Like the night before, his eyes were big with surprise or shock as he stared at me wordlessly. He swallowed visibly hard, probably realized what I was up to. His words came hesitantly, voice still thin like the day before. I hadn’t even noticed that earlier.  
“Tokio, where are you going…?”  
I turned around to face him and once again just shrugged my shoulders. Explaining everything to him would take too long now and he didn’t even need to know it all. 

“Somewhere. Who knows.”  
His worried expression did not change, he seemed to realize that I wasn’t just leaving for a stroll but forever, without him. Actually, this would be the perfect time to get him out of my house.  
Unfortunately for me, he cut me off before I could even start to compliment him away from this place.

“Oh. “  
He quickly looked back and forth between my luggage and me, his frown became bigger, his voice was reduced to a whisper.  
“So you too are going to leave me behind…” 

I sighed. This was not going the way I had planned it to go. Nothing in the past twenty-four hours had gone the way I had wanted it to. Whatever I was trying to do, nothing of it had worked and it had just gotten me in a corner of sorts, one I could not escape like this.  
Shingo was the corner, or he was in the same corner with me. Maybe he was the immediate punishment for the things that had happened, though it made no sense to me why I should be punished for trying to follow my own dreams. I still don’t understand today.

Life was just not fair.

 

He couldn’t do anything, I couldn’t do anything.  
But he was at least warm. Warm as they had been, both of them. Though at this point, I couldn’t tell if this warmth was supposed to be nice or hurtful. He probably didn’t even realize how bad it was.  
The comparison to the two of them, the princess and the maiden, made me remember the chains that were still lying around somewhere in my living room, the ones I had used in the vain try of keeping Sakana-chan with me, and in a way even Sora before her. I couldn’t make use of them anymore in this situation, not if I didn’t want to stay, but maybe it might be possible to chain his warmth to me in a different way.  
I didn’t even know at this point why I was trying to do this anyway, why I wanted him to stay and keep emitting his warmth and smile and everything that was him while I wouldn’t be here anymore after all. Maybe I tried to punish myself for my foolishness. Maybe I took pity on him. I can’t really tell.

 

I took the spare keys to my house and pressed them into his hands. He had begun to use all my things anyway, had lived off my money for the past fifteen years, so why not continue. It didn’t matter much at this point anymore and selling the house would be too much of a hassle.  
“Keep them. Keep the house”, I said to him, “Do with it whatever you want. Just take care of it.”  
Like this, I hoped, I would also keep him from following me, because I really had no use for him on this trip to wherever. I didn’t want to see him anymore for the moment.

Just don’t blindly run after me, Shingo.

 

I left the house before he could say anything and tried to get away as quickly as possible, before he would try to follow me. All the way down to the harbor I didn’t see him anywhere, so it seemed like he was really fulfilling my request and stayed with the house. In fact, I didn’t come across anyone I knew. At least something positive on that day.

 

Finally, I was able to leave this island behind.  
I crossed the ocean on the next best ferry and began to wander the country in search for something I couldn’t really put into words. Actually, I still don’t know what I’m looking for on this journey, whether it is peace or punishment, love or loneliness, rest or rejection. Neither do I know what Shingo is doing right now, if he keeps on doing what I had asked him to, just as he had kept his old promise even after fifteen years of sleep.  
Maybe I will return one day and see how he’s been doing all the time. Maybe I will let myself be absorbed by his warmth and smoothness again. But actually, I’m sure that by now, he has heard about what happened during the time he had been sleeping and in the short few hours after he had woken up and it’s possible that he has come to hate me. It would be a lot easier if he hates me now, for both of us.  
Unfortunately, I also think that his blind love and loyalty could make it impossible for him to hate me, just as he had not condemned me during that one night, despite all the things I had done to him. I don’t understand this guy.

 

I only know one thing for sure: I used to be all he had.

 

**FIN**


End file.
